Strange and Splendid

A number of people have asked me if it's true that my mom organized a coronation for our cats. Yes, she did. A few years ago. It involved pound cake and a can of whipped cream. Each cat got a piece of cake with cream on top. They all licked off the cream and ignored the cake. That was when we named them. There was Her Royal Highness Titania, Queen of the Fairies; Sir Piwakkit Percival Softcat; Lord Michael of Yore and Anon; and Lady Gwendolyn of Light and Music. Now, this wasn't just my mom's doing. Oh, no. My dad and I played our parts as well.

But, my mom is a fascinating woman. At the moment, she's getting ready for one of her infamous teas. She has one about four times a year. Since, I would be put to death for revealing any details about the upcoming festivities, I'll flashback to one of the previous teas to give you an idea of how enthusiastic -- that is to say, crazy -- she is.

The last one I attended was based on a children's book called "When the Sky is Like Lace" by Elinor Lander Horwitz. It's old, but if you can find it, it's definitely worth a read. It's about how on "bimulous" nights, the sky looks like lace and everything is a "strange and splendid plum purple."

Part of the book is about how everyone gives gifts on bimulous nights. Red marbles, kites, anything chartreuse, honey, home-made marshmallow fudge, and coconuts. Well, mum took one of these items to each woman with her invitation. And when the time came, during the party, we all whipped out our presents and exchanged with each other. (I had to talk her into the coconuts, but they were a huge hit! And I really did home-make the marshmallow fudge. Who says I can't be sucked in?)

Another one of the gifts you can give on bimulous nights is three fireflies in a jar. Mum was looking on the internet just for a picture of a firefly, but found instead a RECIPE for a cocktail called a "Firefly." (Check out the Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails at www.lupec.org for a fun time. Motto: "Dismantling the patriarchy one drink at a time.") Most people would have served them in highball glasses and have been done with it. Mum, however, got those little canning jars, PAINTED fireflies on them, and THEN served the drink in them! (Don't run them through the dishwasher! Wash them by hand!)

Another thing about bimulous nights when the sky is like lace, is that the grass smells like gooseberry jam and if you walk on it barefoot, it feels like the inside of a very old violin case. So, one of the party favors was a jar of gooseberry jam. (Did you guess?) And to find out if there's going to be a bimulous night, you look at the man in the moon through a clean white handkerchief and if he winks his left eye, then you know it's time. We all got a handkerchief as well. The food to eat on bimulous nights is spaghetti with pineapple sauce. I have to say, we did skip that part.

Her other quirks seem to escape me at the moment, but I'm sick. I'm sure I'll have other blogs about my beloved Possum, so for now, I'll end with my favorite bit from the book...

"The snails sulk under the cinnamon bush until the moon is high. Then they line up two by two and march down to the grove to watch the trees dance. Because, on bimulous nights when the sky is like lace, the trees eucalyptus back and forth, forth and back, swishing and swaying, swaying and swishing - in the fern deep grove at the midnight end of the garden."